All Chapters of Pregnant For My Ex-Husband’s Billionaire Best Friend: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Sabrina’s POV.The Swiss air had a way of making everything feel crisp and real, like the world was in high definition.We had spent the afternoon in the village of Gstaad. Cole had insisted on taking me to a small, family-owned chocolate shop where the owner, an elderly man named Herr Weber, treated us like long-lost relatives. We walked down the cobblestone streets, my gloved hand tucked securely in Cole’s, watching the snow dust the rooftops like powdered sugar.For a few hours, I forgot about Leon. I forgot about the blogs. I even forgot about the contract in my pocket. I was just... happy.We returned to Le Nid as the sun began to dip behind the mountains, painting the sky in violent shades of violet and orange. The chalet was warm, the fire already roaring in the hearth thanks to the staff.I collapsed onto the plush sofa, pulling the cashmere throw over my legs. "I think I ate my weight in truffles," I groaned, rubbing my stomach. "The baby is on a sugar high. He’s doing gymnas

Sabrina’s POV.I sat on the velvet bench, clutching my clutch bag so hard the edges dug into my palms.From where I sat, they looked like a movie poster.Cole, tall and broad-shouldered in his tuxedo. Elise, statuesque and glittering in silver. They moved across the floor with an easy, practiced grace. She whispered something in his ear, and he leaned down to hear it.They looked like they belonged together. They looked like the same species—born of money, confidence, and power.And me?I looked down at my velvet dress. It was beautiful, yes. But underneath it, I was swollen. My ankles were throbbing. I was carrying the baggage of a failed marriage.She’s right, a treacherous voice whispered in my head. You can't keep up. She’s a CEO. She’s a model. You’re just... Sabrina.“With your condition, you probably can't waltz. Can you?" she had said.It stung because it was true. I felt heavy. I felt dull compared to her shine.I watched Elise laugh, throwing her head back. She was touching

Leon’s POV. The study was filled with silence. I sat in the dim light, surrounded by the wreckage of my own rage. Broken glass littered the Persian rug. The curtains hung askew, ripped from their rods. My computer monitor lay face down on the floor, a spiderweb of cracks across the screen, hiding the plummeting stock numbers I could no longer bear to look at. I poured another glass of scotch, my hand trembling. The liquid sloshed over the rim, staining the mahogany desk that I might not own by the end of the month. Defamation. Breach of Ethics. Immediate withdrawal of funds. Cole’s legal notices were burned into my retinas. He hadn't just beaten me, he had eviscerated me. The heavy oak door slammed open, banging against the wall with a violence that made me flinch. "Leon!" I looked up slowly. Zara stood in the doorway, her face flushed a blotchy, ugly red. She was clutching her purse like a weapon, her chest heaving. "Where have you been?" she shrieked, marching into

Cole’s POV.The drive back to Le Nid was suffocating.I stared out the window at the passing pines, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. Every time I looked at the partition, I wanted to punch something.She thinks I want Elise.She thinks she’s just a responsibility.It killed me. It absolutely killed me that after everything—after the wedding, the quiet moments, the way I looked at her—she still saw herself through Leon’s eyes.The car crunched to a halt over the gravel driveway."We’re here," the driver announced.I didn't wait for him to open the door. I got out and walked around to Sabrina’s side. I opened it.She sat there for a second, clutching her purse, looking small and defeated in the velvet darkness of the car. She wouldn't meet my eyes. She looked pale, the exhaustion of the first trimester clearly catching up to her after a night of forced socializing."Come on," I said, extending my hand.She took it, but her touch was limp. She stepped out, her hand immediately goi

Zara’s POV.I lay in the center of the massive king-sized bed, staring at the canopy ceiling. The room was dark, save for a sliver of moonlight cutting through the curtains I hadn't bothered to close.My anger from earlier had cooled into a hard, cold knot of anxiety.I had staged the perfect dinner. I had played the role of the dutiful, suffering wife. And he had thrown me out.Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought, my hand drifting to my stomach. Maybe he’s finally broken.If Leon was truly done, if he was too paralyzed by depression to sign over the assets, I was in trouble. Big trouble. Henry wasn't going to wait for a bankruptcy hearing to get his money.The bedroom door handle turned.I squeezed my eyes shut, feigning sleep. I slowed my breathing, listening intently.Heavy footsteps crossed the carpet. The mattress dipped on the other side as Leon sat down. I smelled the scotch on him, but it wasn't the overpowering stench of a binge. It was faint."Zara?" he whispered.I didn't mo